Xenophobia
by Ai Tennshi
Summary: They were Romeo and Juliet, in many ways—but they defied most of the norms of that story. But like most Romeos and Juliets, their happily ever after remained elusive. Wiper/Conis, two-shot plus epilogue.
1. Conis

_Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable from One Piece._

**Xenophobia**

The beginning was always romantic, in a Romeo and Juliet scenario. There was a look across a room that smoldered between two individuals and wiped all thoughts but each other from their minds, or an act of kindness on the streets from a stranger, or a case of mistaken identity in an unexpected situation. In general, when two parties from opposing sides of a feud or a war fell in love, it was a passionate occurrence that preceded the discovery of one anthers' identities.

This was hardly the case for Conis and Wiper. They met the night that the feud between their people ended, and they knew at a glance that they were not the same people. But it was a night of celebration, a feud had just ended, and an alliance had just begun. What better a situation to fall in love?

Once the beginnings of romance struck them, however—incited by a mere teasing comment from Brom—as in most Romeo and Juliet scenarios, the flame of love was quick to ignite and spread. Within a week, Wiper had kissed Conis; within a month, they were engaged.

After falling in love is generally where the Romeo and Juliet types encounter obstacles from their enviroments.

In this respect, too, Wiper and Conis deviated from the norm—when they announced their intended union, all of Skypeia rejoiced, for their marriage would be the first embodiment of this newly forged friendship.

Their wedding was a glorious affair in the ruins of Upper Yard, accompanied by a bonfire, the likes of which had not been seen since the departure of the Straw Hats. The two communities had agreed upon an innovative ceremony which incorporated elements of traditional weddings from both cultures. They dressed in Skypeian clothing but were married seated at a fire in the Shandian manner; they recited the traditional vows from both cultures; a reception was held afterwards as was the norm for Skypeians, and both Shandian and Skypeian food was served.

The newly wedded couple, on this day, had eyes for no one but each other, and none present could imagine how it could possibly go wrong.

A week after the wedding, Conis was seen storming out of her hut, across the Vars and all the way back to Angel Island to her father's house. Some cocked their eyebrows curiously, and some chuckled. Conis herself was too ashamed to tell her father why she and her husband had fought, and went home within the hour.

A month later, Wiper was the one to storm out and retreat to the home of his village's chief. The chief attempted to question him, but Wiper only glared and sat in the corner. Conis arrived at the entrance soon after and looked at her husband beseechingly—and Wiper followed her home without a word.

But by the third month of the couple's marriage, the curiosity and the chuckles were gone. Either Conis or Wiper was storming out of that hut almost weekly, and neither ever offered a decent explanation for their behavior.

It was in the sixth month that Conis finally ran out of the hut in tears, straight to her father's home, where everything spilled from her lips. "I don't _understand_ him at all, father!" the girl sobbed. "He would rather go into the bushes than use the bathroom, and he brushes his teeth with a twig rather than a tooth brush, and he smokes so much that I'd swear he's going to die before he's thirty—but I could learn to deal with all that! But then I try to talk about things, and he says, 'why? This is the way I live," like I'm the one who has to do all the adjusting. I always go back to him, father! Me! When he goes off, he doesn't return until I come and find him! Not once has he ever come for me, even that time when I stayed away for three days! Yet when he leaves, I can do nothing for a week and he still won't come home!"

Pagaya reached out, concerned, to try and comfort his daughter, but she shook off his hand—there was more.

"Father, we fight about anything and everything. I can't even make dinner normally—first we argue about what to cook. Then we argue about _how_ to cook what we've decided to cook. And _then_, when the food is finished, we argue about how to eat it. Because I've tried, father, I've tried eating everything with my fingers the way he does, but he's barely tried using silverware once. And I'd like to feel like I'm having a civilized dinner a few times a month, because sometimes I feel like I may as well have married a gorilla! We can't even communicate—I say one thing, and he interprets it another way. Sometimes I don't know what he means by the things he says either. Sometimes I don't know how to react—like every so often, when he makes a generalization about how terrible Skypeians are, I try so hard to smile and brush it off, but you can't imagine how it hurts! To be insulted for being what I am, and by my own husband! And I'm supposed to love him for all my life, and I wish I weren't saying this!"

Conis collapsed to her knees in sobs. Pagaya stroked her back gently, and said, calmly, "You were raised differently, Conis-san. You must realize this. We always knew that there would be adjustments to make. Have you ever spoken to Wiper-san about these things that you just told me?"

Conis shook her head and buried her face in her hands. "Of course not. Weren't you listening? He never comes for me, father. Not once. The moment I say something like this, he would throw me away for a more suitable woman. A Shandian woman. Father, I have to prove that I can do this—I have to."

Pagaya shook his head, though Conis could not see that. "Conis-san, marriage is not about proving yourself, or appeasing your partner because you're terrified of being left behind. Marriage is a step to take when you've overcome all those fears and insecurities, and know that you belong together—and that your partner feels the same."

Conis looked up at her father, and Pagaya's heart broke. "Then, father, perhaps Wiper-san and I weren't meant to wed."

Pagaya tried to make her see that this wasn't the case, but Conis seemed to have made up her mind.

When Conis returned home that evening, Wiper was seated on the floor munching on a whole boiled potato. Normally, Conis would berate him for not even attempting to make himself a well-rounded meal, and set about making him something else to eat.

Today, she simply sat down facing him, knowing that she would lose her nerve to do this if she did not.

"Wiper-san," said Conis.

"Conis," Wiper replied around a large mouthful of potato. Conis shuddered inwardly.

"This isn't working, and we both know it."

Conis' words made Wiper freeze in place. His jaw stopped chewing, his eyes shot to Conis and widened, and his entire body tensed, as if he had just been threatened and was preparing to defend himself from an ambush.

"We can't get along about the remotest things—we argue about where and how and what to eat and sleep and dress everyday. We don't have remotely similar ideas of manners, and our tastes are entirely different. We have nothing in common, so we can't talk unless we're arguing. One of us leaves at least once a week…and I'm the only one who's ever tried to fix that. We've been married for half a year, and not even that first week was remotely what a marriage should be."

There was a silence.

"Are you suggesting a divorce?" asked Wiper, and something blazed in his eyes.

"Yes," said Conis, and a second later her cheek was throbbing. When she registered that Wiper had actually _hit_ her, her eyes turned to steel and she stood and turned to leave.

Wiper waited all week. Conis did not return, and in her place he received the divorce papers, already signed by Conis.

Wiper signed them and had them delivered.

That was the last anyone—Shandian or Skypeian—saw of the great Shandian warrior.


	2. Wiper

When Laki finally found Wiper, it was a month later and in one of the larger trees on the side of Upper Yard furthest from Angel Island. She only found him because Aisa had claimed that there was a lost animal up in the tree—an animal that was deeply in pain, at that—and had beseeched Laki to climb up and find the poor creature and bring it down.

In any other situation, Laki would have laughed at Aisa identifying Wiper as an animal. However, his form was so gaunt, and his eyes so empty, that Laki thought she understood how that mistake had been brought about. Wiper was, indeed, little better than a wounded and frightened animal.

Laki could not even get him to come out of the tree. Whenever she approached him, he growled ominously; when she tried ignoring his growls to attempt to pull him out of the tree, he proved that his military prowess remained in a few quick, precise blows that sent Laki hurdling to the ground. Laki then had no choice but to return to the village and explain what had happened.

It became a routine among the Shandians then, for people to approach that tree in groups of two or three and try to bring their warrior back to a human community. It did not take long for the Skypeians to catch on to what was going on, but they shunned the man—he had hurt calm, strong, gentle Conis, and it was popular opinion that for that he deserved a great deal more pain than he was enduring.

Pagaya heard of Wiper's ordeal when he was in the store one morning; two ladies were gossiping in the next isle, and though they clamped their mouths shut and scurried away the moment they saw him peek around the corner, he had heard all he needed to know. Pagaya considered, for a brief moment, whether he ought to keep the knowledge from Conis. Conis, with her sense of righteousness, was bound to be overcome with guilt at the knowledge of what had become of her ex-husband. He still remembered, with vivid horror, the purple bruise that had adorned her cheek for a week. But then he thought of the state his daughter had been in for the past month—the meals she missed, the forced smiles, the sobs she didn't know he heard coming from her room past midnight…and he knew that Conis needed to know.

"Conis-san," said Pagaya when he reached home, setting the groceries on the counter.

"Yes, father?" asked Conis with a brilliant smile that would have fooled anyone else.

"I heard a few things at the store today that I thought you ought to hear."

"Yes, father?" Conis began removing items from the grocery bags and putting them away.

"Wiper-san had been missing for a month, until about a week ago."

"Oh?" Conis' voice trembled in some small degree.

"They've found him in a tree in northern Upper Yard, and he refuses to come down."

Conis took a deep breath, and Pagaya heard the sobs that she did not let out.

"Wiper-san is no longer part of our lives, father."

"That is true," said Pagaya. "But you are unhappy. He is unhappy. Wouldn't you say that means something?"

"We were unhappy when we were married."

"Perhaps marriage is not for you," said Pagaya. "Perhaps you are not even meant to be together. But you left him so abruptly—don't you agree that you could at least heal together, at least so that you aren't quite so miserable?"

Conis had begun washing the vegetables that she would use for supper. She said nothing, but the hard light in her eyes told Pagaya that she was considering. He did not breach the topic any further, and Conis never brought up the topic.

But when Pagaya woke shortly after dawn the next morning, Conis was gone. He smiled softly, hoping that his daughter would return with more life than the shell that she had been for the past month.

* * *

When Conis had approached the Shandian villagers for directions to the tree where Wiper was, she was not surprised to be met by accusing glares and distrustful looks. It hurt nonetheless. The mere sight of children playing a Shandian game in the dust with a cloud ball made her chest tighten—it reminded her all too much of the day after her wedding, when she had speculated aloud to Wiper whether they would have enough children that they could play the game amongst themselves.

Conis was just about ready to head to the northern region of the island alone in search of Wiper when she was approached by Laki.

"Laki-san," said Conis, bracing her heart for more accusations and pain.

"Conis," said Laki, and Conis' heart leapt at the informal address: perhaps Laki was still her friend, after all that had gone over. Laki averted her eyes and hesitated, and Conis felt her heart sink. "I want you to know that I don't like what you did to Wiper." Conis threw up her emotional barriers against the pain. "But I also know that…that it couldn't have been easy. So I thought…well, that maybe I could take you to him. We've tried everything, but he just sits there and occasionally munches on nuts. I don't think he can…"

Laki trailed off, but Conis reached out to take the hand of the woman who had been a good friend until a month ago. "Take me to him. Please."

Laki had wondered if Conis would be able to climb the tree. She needn't have worried, for it turned out that Conis was as nimble as a monkey—even with a bag hanging from her shoulder—and Laki found herself wondering if Wiper had known that Conis was so good a tree-climber. Laki wondered how much any Shandian—including Wiper—had ever known about the Skypeian girl who had married a Shandian man whom she had known for barely a month.

Laki considered whether to accompany Conis—she wavered between giving the couple their privacy and remaining nearby to guard Conis in the instance that Wiper lashed out as he had with many others. Finally she climbed up after Conis, but remained by the trunk while Conis crawled out across the limb to Wiper.

"Wiper-san," said Conis softly, and for the first time Laki saw Wiper's eyes focus with recognition. And then an expression so new, so unfamiliar, so uncharacteristic swept across his face that it took Laki a few moments to recognize it for the acute sorrow that it was. Conis reached out and touched his cheek; Laki braced herself to leap forward and protect Conis, but Wiper only looked at her and remained motionless.

"Wiper-san," Conis said again, and this time Laki heard her voice crack, "What have you done? Why are you doing this? Is it because I left you? If it hurt you so much, why did you let me? Why did you hit me? Why were you so _cold_ for that half year we spent together? What happened to you?"

Laki felt her cheeks heat up—embarrassment at being present for such a personal scene, yes, but also shame for having despised Conis for what had happened to Wiper. She thought of how the Shandians blamed Conis for Wiper's condition, and of the Skypeians reluctance to help Wiper out of deference to Conis. Suddenly, Laki felt like a fool—a marriage was a two-way street, and taking sides had not helped the couple at all. Wiper had _hit_ Conis, but Laki had not even thought to wonder what had led to Conis' decision to divorce. Had Wiper's wife been a Shandian girl of Conis' disposition, the first thing Laki would have done would have been to storm up to Wiper and demand what he had done to the girl.

"Talk to me, Wiper-san," Conis was still saying, oblivious to Laki's inner turmoil. "When I left, I only said what I wanted to say. You hardly said a thing. Actually, you never really said anything, did you? Even when we were courting, you tended to say things with actions rather than words. Then after we married, you just seemed to close up—I thought you were growing tired of me. But you weren't, were you?" A tear slipped down her cheek. "Of course not, or you wouldn't be like this. I've had this whole month to think, Wiper-san, and I can't even remember how we got engaged. The way I remember it, the moment the people around us realized that we had certain…feelings for each other, we were shoved together, and the match was made for us. God said a union between us would benefit all of Skypeia, and just like that we were engaged. But that's not the way it's supposed to work, is it?"

Wiper's eyes went dark, and Conis took his hand and quickly continued. "We barely knew each other when we married. I couldn't even think of what to say when we weren't arguing. I didn't—I still don't even know your favorite color, or what you like to do in your spare time, or whether you read, or what your childhood was like…and I never asked after we married, because I was ashamed to admit that I knew so little about my husband. Wasn't it the same for you?"

Wiper looked at her steadily, and then closed his eyes. "I picked fights, because I figured they were better than awkward silences." His voice was hoarse, and Conis wondered when had been the last time he'd spoken, or drank some water. "I tried to compromise my style of living for you before I even knew whether you'd want it compromised. I stopped taking early morning walks, because I figured you'd get up late and not want to find me gone. I stopped going on late-night runs because I figured you'd want me there. And I felt trapped—and I resented you."

"I did the same," said Conis, dropping her forehead to his shoulder. "I got up later in the morning because I realized that that was what you expected. I didn't bring Suu because I thought you'd hate having her around. I resented you too."

They sat in silence for a time, and then Wiper felt Conis shift. "You haven't eaten or drank in a while have you?" asked the girl, and with a smile she presented him with a thermos from her bag.

Wiper blinked.

"It's that broth that you used to make sometimes, when I- when I left and you thought I might not come back that evening."

"I hate that broth," Wiper said blandly, but accepted the thermos anyway.

Conis blinked in astonishment. "Then why would you make it for yourself so often?"

"I thought I deserved it for driving you away. I never made myself food I would enjoy when you were gone."

"But you never came after-"

"To yield is to show your opponent that you are weak."

"You were comparing our fights to battle strategies?" Conis sighed, but this explanation explained so much about what had gone wrong in their marriage that the sigh gave way to a laugh.

"I want to be near you," said Wiper. "I want to be with you, Conis, the way we were before…before we wed. Only, I want to be closer than that. I want to know you, and I want to- I want to love you. I want to learn how to love you, because I don't think I…" He trailed off then, and Conis could only smile now.

"I want to love you too," she whispered, cuddling up to his side the way she had on their wedding night. "I want to know you and be near you too. Only—I don't think I want to get married again. I want us both to know that it's not necessarily permanent."

"It should be permanent because we want it," said Wiper wryly.

"Not because it has to be," Conis smiled. Then Wiper kissed her. Neither of them could remember anything so wonderful since their first kiss.


	3. Epilogue: The Importance of Being Wedded

When the three representatives of the village who were to attempt to coax Wiper out of the tree arrived that day, they were momentarily shocked to find him gone. Then Laki—who was rather red in the face, Kamakiri observed with amusement—appeared to inform them that there was no need, since Wiper had just gone home.

As much as the knowledge gave the villagers joy, they also desperately wished to know how Wiper's miraculous recovery had come about.

The villagers who were not in the forest were the first to see Wiper and Conis—hand-in-hand and looking happier than ever—entering Wiper's hut. This, of course, led to a barrage of people knocking on the door of the hut until Wiper suggested that they relocate somewhere further removed from his kin. Conis, for the first time, invited him to her father's home.

Pagaya received them with delight—and wisely did not reveal that he had known that they would arrive long before they had, as gossip seemed to travel faster than people. The couple retreated to Conis' room and did not come out all day. When Pagaya dared to peek in to see if they wanted supper, he found them curled up together on Conis' bed—fully clothed, to his relief. The scene made Pagaya smile, for the sheer trust which Conis now displayed towards Wiper went far above anything he had ever seen since the pair had met.

The next morning, Conis informed him that she would be moving in with Wiper, and would be taking Suu this time. Pagaya did not ask if they were to be wedded. They had tried it once and it hadn't worked, and he was not about to suggest they try it again. When he heard gossip later in the week about how inappropriate it was of Conis and Wiper to be living in sin, so to speak, he merely chuckled to himself. If nothing else, Conis and Wiper were an unorthodox pair; wasn't it only fitting that they go about their lives in a similarly unorthodox fashion?

When, a week later, Conis visited to inform him—blushing heavily—that she was pregnant, Pagaya just smiled.

Suddenly, all of Skypeia was pressing for a wedding. Only Laki and Pagaya seemed content to let the young couple live as they wished, and the pressure no doubt was considerable. However, the couple did not cave this time: all who attempted to pressure Wiper were met with malice and fury, and therefore all turned towards pressuring Conis. It did not take long for all of Skypeia to learn that Wiper's malice and fury multiplied tenfold when Conis was unhappy, so the community soon abandoned its attempts to force Wiper and Conis to do what was "right."

There was no one who missed the fact that some things were entirely different about the couple now that they were _not_ married. For one thing, they always got up at the crack of dawn for no apparent reason. For another, they absolutely _never_ fought. By the time Conis' child was born, practically all of Skypeia had learned first-hand that the couple was seemingly telepathically attuned to each other—in most cases, this consisted of Conis being upset to the smallest degree in Wiper's presence (most people upsetting Conis never even realized that they were upsetting her until they faced the consequences) and Wiper bursting into a fury. Most assumed that this was a one-way street until one day when, while shopping alone, Conis just happened to hear a comment made about the potential abusiveness of a Shandian husband. After the entire grocery store had seen Conis erupt in a fury, half of Skypeia learned to fear Conis' wrath; the other half attributed it to hormones and resolved not to upset her only while pregnant.

Wiper and Conis seemed so wildly happy that by the time their child was one-year-old, most could scarcely remember that they were not actually married; even fewer still remembered what a disaster their attempt at marriage had been. Wiper and Conis, however, remembered it all, and never broached the subject of marriage.

By the time that their eldest daughter was six-years-old and wanted to know how Mommy and Daddy had gotten married, it seemed unimportant that they were not, in fact, married. Together they told the tale of how they had fallen in love quickly—too quickly—and had not had a clue how to go about being married. Then they had resolved the problem simply by learning about each other—and learning to communicate effectively. Talk of marriage and divorce was entirely omitted, but their children never minded.

It was when Conis and Wiper were the parents of six with the eldest at age ten that Gan Fall arrived at their doorstep to confess that his "carelessness" with Pierre had resulted in a "fire" which had destroyed one document and one document alone: Conis and Wiper's divorce papers.

"Of course," said Gan Fall conversationally with a twinkle in his eye, "If you preferred being unwed, I certainly could let you sign another divorce document."

Conis and Wiper exchanged a look, and each remembered the conversation they had had, and how they had resolved not to remain together because they had to, but only because they wanted to. They smiled and looked back at Gan Fall.

"It really doesn't make a difference to us," said Conis, entwining the fingers of one hand with Wiper's while with her other arm she bounced her newborn son on her hip. "We'd stay together whether law dictated it or not. But there's really no need to sign another divorce document. Unfortunately, it seems that the gossips will have one less thing to complain about."

Gan Fall grinned at his own genius as he left. He wondered that he hadn't thought of this strategy five years ago.


End file.
